


True Beauty

by padaholic_316



Category: Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beast Jared, Eventual Romance, Hurt Jared, M/M, Protective Jensen, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2000874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padaholic_316/pseuds/padaholic_316
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Merchant traveler Alan Ackles stumbles across an ancient castle ruled by a gentle Beast, and in exchange for taking a rose from the garden, he promises to bring his son Jensen, who the rose was for, to visit the castle. Jensen is the first person the Beast has ever met who is not put off by his monstrous appearance, and so the Beast invites Jensen to stay at the castle with him, an offer which Jensen accepts. The two become close, but the life Jensen thought he left behind at his old village eventually comes back into the picture when his father is put in danger. Will the beautiful Jensen and the cursed Beast be able to defeat the threat that Jensen's former flame poses to the lives of Jensen's loved ones, and will Jensen realize in time that his feelings for the Beast are stronger than friendship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will have elements from Supernatural, the original Beauty and the Beast fairytale, the 1991 Disney movie, and ideas from my own head. I own nothing but the latter. 
> 
> Warnings for this part: none. 
> 
> Warnings for the future: possibly graphic depictions of injury and violence, language, and MAYBE a sex scene at the end. (Even though the story would seem to lean in the direction of bottom!Jensen, I only write bottom!Jared, so that's why the maybe. Haven't decided whether to include it yet -- will have to see where the story goes.)
> 
> I'll update the archive warnings and rating if and when necessary. (THE RATING WILL BE RAISED TO AT LEAST M, MAYBE E, SOMETIME IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS.)
> 
> My first published fanfic!!! Any and all feedback greatly appreciated.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Jensen sighed as his brothers raced past him toward the stables. He could ride with them, but he really didn't feel like subjecting himself to their pompous, self-absorbed attitudes at the moment. He could take his horse out for a stroll in the field, but he had already done that this morning. And there really wasn't much else to do until his father returned home, so he'd have to make do. 

 

Wandering into his room, Jensen sighed again and flopped down onto his bed. He was bored. He was often bored these days, with his father constantly out of town and his brothers constantly off racing horses, getting drunk, and sleeping with anything with a pulse. Other than the books Jensen's father brought back from his travels, which he always devoured within a day or two, Jensen often found it difficult to keep himself entertained. His father was very good at what he did, so financially, the Ackles never worried. Sometimes, though, Jensen considered getting a job, just so he'd have something to  _do._

 

But the only places in his tiny little village where he'd be able to work were the tavern or the blacksmith's shop, and the blacksmith already had two apprentices and wasn't looking for a third. The tavern -- well,  _that_ was never even an option. Too frequented by his brothers and their asshole friends, the very people he tried his hardest to avoid. They'd no doubt make his life a living hell every second they could. 

 

So yeah, a job was basically out of the question. 

 

He'd already done every chore it was possible to do in the house. The floors were swept, the beds were made (even his brothers'), the laundry was done... hell, he'd even _dusted._ That's how bored he was. 

 

 _Well, there's always one thing I can do, I guess,_ Jensen thought, rolling off his bed and wandering into the library, eyes scanning the shelves full of books, all of which he'd read at least twice. His father didn't really need an office, so the room designated as one was made into a library for all the books Merchant Ackles acquired from his journeys. He always claimed to have bought them because he thought they were interesting and planned on reading them himself, which was partially true -- but Jensen knew the books were mostly for him. His father knew of Jensen's intense passion for reading, so whenever he could, he brought back books for his youngest son. His brothers always scoffed at him for it, but Jensen didn't care -- he'd blaze through a new book, then go back and read it again, slowly this time. He knew some of the stories in the books were true, or at least based off of true events -- fairies, giants, elves, and all sorts of other mythical creatures were out there, and he'd even seen a few before, passing through their village. An elf, a dwarf, and what he was pretty sure was a pixie. But other than that, Jensen had never really been anywhere exciting, seen anything exciting,  _done_ anything exciting. But he wanted to.  _God,_ he wanted to. 

 

His father had promised that once he was 25, he would take him on as a formal apprentice and start teaching him the ways of a merchant. Then Jensen would finally be able to travel and see the world, _finally_ be able to have some adventure in his life. But that was still almost a year away, and Jensen didn't know if he could stand waiting that long. Didn't know if he could bear living with his obnoxious brothers in a village where there was  _nothing to do_ for another entire _year._  

 

He'd just have to distract himself the only way he knew how. 

 

Jensen pulled one of his favorite volumes off the shelf, shut himself in his room and began to read, quickly losing himself in a tale of action and adventure. 

 

Little did he know how much action and adventure would soon be a part of his very own life.

 

~*~*~*~

 

 


	2. The Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen's father, Merchant Ackles, stumbles across an abandoned castle -- well, he thought it was abandoned. An unexpected encounter leads to just the type of adventure Jensen has been pining for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Note: I changed Jensen's age to 24 in the first chapter. Wrote him as 20 at first without thinking of how young that would make Jared -- I want to keep Jensen older, maybe have the age difference be 2 years or maybe the same as IRL, haven't decided yet.)
> 
> Extremely sorry for the delay on this chapter!!! Unforeseen circumstances kept me from writing for a while. I can't absolutely promise extremely regular updates on this story, but I will try my best. I have a very busy schedule at the moment, and I don't have a ton of time to write. But I'm REALLY looking forward to writing this story, so I'll write whenever I can and try to update as frequently at possible. And I WILL finish it, I promise!!!
> 
> Random side note: although it would fit with the time period/setting of this story, the Js in my headcanon for this do NOT have British accents (and neither does anyone else), although the style of language is a little more formal than it would be in a present-day fic, of course. I tried to write the dialogue accordingly. 
> 
> And as always, any and all feedback greatly appreciated!!!

 

~*~*~*~

 

Merchant Alan Ackles was a very skilled price negotiator, had an excellent eye for value, and was an unparalleled salesman. This combination of talents made him one of the best travelling merchants one could find. 

 

The one thing Merchant Ackles was most decidedly  _not_ , however, was a good navigator. 

 

Which was sometimes a problem, seeing as how he was a travelling merchant. 

 

"Stupid damn map," he muttered darkly as he flipped the map ninety degrees clockwise, studied it carefully, and finally realized he'd been going the wrong direction for at least an hour. "Stupid damn forest," he added, jerking on the reins of his horse and narrowly avoiding a wicked-looking thornbush for what must have been at least the third time in the past ten minutes. "Stupid damn fork in the road, nobody told  _me_ there was a fork in the road." And now that he was looking at the map the correct way, he actually could see the fork -- and where he clearly should've gone right, but went left because he thought that was the direction of home, because maps were stupid and how was  _he_ supposed to know which way was north? 

 

Never mind the compass rose on the edge of the map, which he had -- _again_ \-- failed to notice until now.

 

"Stupid damn map," he muttered again. 

 

He turned his horse around and slowly started trotting her back the way they'd come. He'd just have to retrace his steps until he came back to that fork at the edge of the forest. 

 

But  _wait --_  there was something on the periphery of his vision that made him want to do a double take. _What was that?_  

 

The merchant pulled on the reins sharply, bringing his horse to a quick stop. _There_ \-- he brought his horse forward and brushed aside some branches and vines, revealing an entrance so narrow, he almost hadn't seen it.

 

There was a path to his left.

 

A path that looked an awful lot like a shortcut.

 

It wasn't marked on the map (not that he could find, anyways), but it was in the correct direction, and if he took it, he may even bypass the fork altogether and would probably save himself at least an hour or so. Which really was crucial, because it was already the afternoon, and he did  _not_ want to still be on this path when night fell -- because who knew what lived in these woods at night? Coyotes, almost definitely. Bears, more than likely. And with the many mystical creatures, some known to be malicious, that inhabited forests and may also be lying in wait...

 

He shuddered. He had  _no_ intentions of becoming goblin food. Or werewolf food. Or food for  _anything,_ for that matter.

 

The side path was overgrown, had clearly been out of use for a while, but it looked passable. _Worth a shot,_ the merchant decided. He'd give it an hour, and if the end wasn't in sight by then, he'd turn back so he could still make it out of the woods by sunset. "C'mon, Bella," he murmured to his horse, steering the hesitant filly onto the narrower route. "Let's get out of here." 

 

Judging by her slow, careful pace, Bella didn't like the smaller path very much, but she plodded along without complaint. The route wasn't straight -- it meandered some, which the merchant had expected. What he hadn't expected was what he encountered around halfway into his self-allotted hour.

 

The path ran along the edge of what appeared to be the grounds of an abandoned castle. 

 

He caught sight of it through the trees a few minutes before he actually reached it, but his eyes still widened in amazement as it he went around a bend and the castle finally came into full view. "Wow," he breathed, gently bringing his horse to a halt. The castle was clearly ancient -- it looked slightly overgrown, but it was still magnificent. Done in the grand style of the old ages without being too overdone, the stonework was simplistic but breathtakingly beautiful. The castles built back then were meant to last for eons, so it didn't surprise him that the building's exterior did not look to be in any serious disrepair. The vines and other plant growth on and around the castle seemed only to enhance its beauty. He might not even have believed it was abandoned but for the state of the plant life. What appeared to have most likely once been a beautiful garden was now completely overgrown, so much so that it was nearly at the level of the forest around it, except for the height of the trees. There was even an ornate metal and stone trellis right on the edge of the path that had probably once been the main entrance to the grounds. 

 

And when Merchant Ackles glanced through the trellis into the overgrown garden, he saw a glimpse of color. The castle was in the part of the country where many rare types of flowers grew, and this garden, left to grow wild, was probably full of them. While it wasn't normally what he dealt in, he knew that rare flowers, when properly pressed or taken from the root, could sell for very large sums of money to the right collector. The merchant also knew his youngest son had a great appreciation for nature, and a flower he'd never seen before would make for a perfect unexpected gift for Jensen.

 

"I'll be right back, girl," he whispered, dismounting and tying Bella's reins to the trellis. Stepping through, he slowly made his way down what used to be the main path to the castle. The stones that used to line the dirt path were barely visible, but they were still easy enough to follow, since they seemed to have held the worst of the overgrowth from encroaching onto the path. The tallest of the plants reached maybe a foot over his head, and he had to push some branches and vines out of the way, but he pressed on. And he quickly came across the splash of color he'd seen earlier: a bright blue flower, yellow in the center, large and exotic-looking and absolutely beautiful. Probably too over-the-top for Jensen, but would no doubt sell for a small fortune in the right parts of the world. And they were individual blossoms, not on a bush. He made a mental note to dig up a few blooms on the way out. 

 

He continued on and as he went, he encountered many gorgeous flowers -- large and small, on bushes and not, familiar and unfamiliar, and all the colors of the rainbow. He was so focused on the flowers that he didn't notice that the overgrowth retreated more and more the farther he got into the garden. Eventually, he turned the last corner and was now facing the main castle doors -- but that didn't even register to the merchant, because on either side of the path, there was a flower that he never thought he'd see in person. They were in storybooks, in paintings, but few had ever been fortunate enough to see one in person, let alone to touch or smell one. And yet here they were, right in front of him, bushes and  _bushes_ of them. 

 

Roses. 

 

White, cream, yellow, orange, countless shades of pink and red and purple. There must have been atleast thirty bushes _._  The colors were symmetrically arranged on each side of the path, ending in another trellis which opened to a round stone courtyard in front of the castle doors. And that trellis... 

 

Merchant Ackles temporarily forgot how to breathe. The trellis was covered in roses more beautiful than he even thought  _possible._  Each bloom was the size of two fists, and they were all the brightest, most gorgeous shade of red the merchant had ever seen. In fact, he hadn't thought that _color_  was possible, either. Wouldn't believe it was, had he not been looking at it with his own two eyes at that very moment. 

 

He felt like he'd just stepped into one of his son's storybooks. 

 

He slowly wandered to the end of the path, touching and smelling practically every rose he passed as he went. And when he got to the rose-covered trellis, he slipped his pocket knife out of his back pocket, picked the biggest bloom within reach, and carefully, minding the thorns on the stem, sliced it off. _  
_

And at that moment, the castle doors opened. 

 

The merchant nearly dropped the rose in his fright.  _Isn't this place abandoned?_ But that's when it began to register that the part of the garden he was currently standing in certainly did not look abandoned or overgrown -- in fact, it looked to be quite well-tended.  _  
_

That thought was only in his head for a moment, though -- it was quickly forgotten when he caught sight of the figure striding out of the castle doors. 

 

It was a beast. 

 

Merchant Ackles froze in terror. His mind was screaming at him to run, but he couldn't make his legs move. The monster was giant, at least seven feet tall if not eight, and covered in deep brown fur. Its face looked like a cross between a wolf, a bear, and... 

 

...a person? 

 

It did appear slightly human-like, the merchant noticed. It walked like a man, its features (although furry) seemed similar in shape to those of a human face, and its hands were, despite being clawed, just that -- hands. It had fingers, not paws. And it was clothed. In what appeared to be a nobleman's robe. 

 

And then it spoke. 

 

"Who are you?" it growled, and its voice was just as terrifying as its appearance. "How did you find this place?" It eyed the rose in the merchant's hand. "And why are you taking from my garden?" 

 

The merchant thought he might pass out. "I... uh... I just..." 

 

The beast reached out towards him, and the merchant flinched violently away, closing his eyes. He opened them after a moment... and found the beast waiting, its arm still stretched out, watching him with a strange look in its eyes -- but it was not anger. Holding the man's gaze, the beast slowly moved its arm forward, laying a gentle hand on the merchant's shoulder. "I am not going to harm you," it said softly. 

 

Merchant Ackles then realized that what he saw in the beast's eyes was sadness. And resignation. 

 

He also realized that in his fright, he had seen anger in the beast's actions and voice when there really was none. Being an intelligent being, the beast had probably known the merchant would react the way he had -- it had probably expected it.  _But if it's intelligent..._  The merchant gazed into the beast's eyes a moment longer, seeing definite human emotion and comprehension. _Maybe_ _I shouldn't think of it as an 'it'._

 

"What..." The merchant's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, his eyes not leaving the beast's, and tried again. "What are you?" 

 

And he immediately wished he had thought of a more sensitive way to ask that question when the beast was the one who flinched away from  _him_ this time. 

 

The beast gave a deep sigh, and before the merchant could muster up the courage to apologize, it replied, "I was once a man." 

 

Somehow, the merchant was not surprised. Even though he had  _no idea_ how someone who used to be a normal human person could now be...  _this._

 

The beast-man tilted its head, and the merchant noted with relief that it still did not look or sound angry, merely curious, when it growled, "You have not answered my questions." 

 

"Oh, well, uh..." the merchant stammered, trying to remember what it had asked. "My, uh, my name is Alan Ackles, I'm a merchant, and I, well, I'm not the best at reading maps, and I _may_ have taken a wrong turn, and not really realized it for a while, and when I turned back, I, uh, found this tiny little path that I thought might be a shortcut, so I took it, and, well, it led me here. I thought this place was abandoned," he added quickly. "I wouldn't have trespassed if I'd known it wasn't."

 

The beast-man nodded, but still looked curious. "No one has found that path in years..." it murmured softly to itself, looking off to the side.  _( He, if it used to be a man then it's a he, not an it.) _"And why did you come into the garden?" it  _( he) _asked, meeting the merchant's eyes again. 

 

"Well, I, um, like I said, I'm a merchant," Merchant Ackles began, still fairly nervous. He didn't think the beast-man would hurt him, but he wasn't sure how it  _( he) _would react to a trespassing on its  _( his,_ _dammit)_  property."And part of a merchant's job is to acquire and sell rare and valuable items --" 

 

"Yes, I am well aware of the job description of a merchant," the beast-man interjected, sounding vaguely amused. "Like I said, I was a man once. I lived in a large village for many years growing up. We had our fair share of merchants." 

 

"Oh, yes, of course," the merchant stammered, reddening slightly.  _(Of course he'd know what a merchant does, you idiot.)_ "So, I -- well, there aren't very many uncommon varieties of flowers in the area I'm from, none at all really, and also rare flowers sell for a pretty penny, especially to the right buyer, and I saw there were flowers in here, and, well, I figured if it's abandoned, who's gonna care if I take a few?" 

 

The beast-man nodded slowly. "So that's what this is for?" he asked, gesturing to the rose the merchant still had clutched in his hand. "You were going to sell it?" 

 

"Uh... well... actually, this one in particular was going to be for my son," the merchant replied. "I  _was_ going to go through and get some other flowers too, maybe dig up some of the ones not on bushes, because pressed flowers are worth a lot, but live flowers that can be re-planted and grown are even more valuable. But, of course, I can't exactly dig up an entire rose bush... and, uh, my son, he loves flowers and plants, everything in nature really, and he's never seen a real rose before, so I, uh, thought I'd take one back for him, since I'm less than two days' ride away from home -- should still live for a week or two after it's cut, right? If I keep it in water? I have an extra water canteen I can use..." He trailed off slowly, noticing the beast-man's gaze was not on him, but still fixed on the rose in his hand. 

 

"My roses are very special to me," he said softly. "They are one of the only real remnants I have left of my life before..." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Well, before  _this_ ," he finished, gesturing down at his huge, fur-covered body. "And the only one I have left of my --" He stopped abruptly, glancing up at the merchant quickly before looking off to the side, ducking his head slightly. "Of someone very important to me." 

 

The merchant got the feeling the beast-man had almost inadvertently revealed a very personal piece of information that he both had not intended to share and was obviously not comfortable talking about. "I understand," he replied, suddenly feeling a strong surge of guilt for having cut off one of the roses that clearly meant so much to the beast-man.  _Living here, all on his own, probably for years and years, apparently no family and obviously no friends or acquaintances to speak of... makes sense he doesn't have much in his life that means a lot to him. And I come along and just decide I can take whatever I want from this place without even checking if there was someone here first._

 

"I'm very sorry," he added, holding out the rose to the beast-man. "For intending to steal from you, and for cutting this off the vine. And I know I can't exactly undo that, but can I at least give this back to you -- you could keep it in a vase? Or something? Not that that makes up for --" 

 

"Merchant Ackles," the beast-man interjected, a slight smile on his face. "You have nothing to be sorry for. There was no way you could have known what the roses meant to me. In fact, you had no reason to even think this place wasn't abandoned. It certainly looks like it is from the outside." 

 

"But I should've  _realized_  when I got farther in that it wasn't all growing wild anymore," the merchant insisted. "If I had taken the time to look around, I would've figured out that someone had to be taking care of this place. And _this_ \-- this pathway alone should've clued me in that the roses were special to whoever lived here." 

 

"Roses are rare, Merchant, as you've said," the beast-man reminded him gently. "It makes sense that they'd be the feature point in any garden. And with the distraction of all the rare and exotic flowers, no one could blame you for not noticing the gradual transition from overgrown to well-tended. And it is just that -- a very gradual transition. Anyone could have made the same mistake -- anyone  _would_ have, even. I do not fault you or blame you in any way." He looked again at the rose the merchant was still holding out to him. "And as for that..." He gently pushed the outstretched arm back, earning him a look of surprise from the merchant. "It's just one rose. And it is not even for you. You said you were planning on giving it to your son, right?" 

 

"Um... yes, but why --" 

 

"Take it, Merchant. I am giving you permission... on one condition." 

 

"...Okay?" 

 

He met the slightly terrified man's eyes. "You and your son, the one the rose is for, must come here for dinner." 

 

The merchant was confused. "Dinner?" 

 

The beast-man smiled again. "Yes. Dinner. No more than a month from now. It isn't often I get the pleasure of real human interaction. But you must not tell anyone else of these plans." His voice took on a harder quality, and the smile fell away. "You must not tell another living soul, other than your son, about me. Is that understood?" 

 

The merchant gulped audibly. "Absolutely." 

 

The smile returned. "Good. And one more thing." He reached out and touched the edge of the rose. "This flower -- along with all the blooms on this trellis -- is enchanted. You do not need to put it in water. It will survive on its own forever, as long as it is not physically harmed." 

 

 _Enchanted?_ The merchant looked at the rose again, and for the first time, he noticed that it did seem to have an unnatural light about it -- almost like it was glowing just a tiny bit. The other roses on the grand entrance trellis were the same way. He looked back down the path at the countless other blooms on the bushes. "Are they all --" 

 

The beast-man shook his head. "Just these." 

 

Merchant Ackles shook his head in awe. "Wow." 

 

"So... do we have a deal?" the beast-man inquired. "Dinner for the rose?" 

 

The merchant thought for a moment, then shook the beast-man's outstretched _(enormous)_ hand. "Definitely... as long as I can find this place again." 

 

The beast-man smiled. "I think you'll find that easier than you think, if you continue to the end of the path. It comes out in a place that's... rather easy to remember." 

 

"Oh, well, that's good," the merchant replied, returning the smile sheepishly. "I'm really not much of a navigator."

 

"I don't think you'll have a problem," the beast-man reassured him. "Good luck with the rest of your journey home, and I will see you again soon."

 

The merchant opened his mouth to say goodbye and suddenly realized something. "Oh -- I don't even know what to call you! I'm so sorry, I never even thought to ask for your name --" 

 

"Don't worry about it," the beast-man replied quickly. "I never gave you the chance. Others have simply called me 'beast'. If you aren't comfortable with that, you could call me Sir Beast..." He trailed off, but noticing the look of discontent on the merchant's face, he slowly continued. "Or... well, you could also call me Sir Tristan. Whichever you like." 

 

"I think I like Sir Tristan the best," the merchant answered immediately. "Because you're clearly a person -- well, maybe not physically, but still -- and I think Sir Tristan suits you much better than... than 'beast'. A real name seems a lot more appropriate." 

 

The beast-man --  _Sir Tristan_ \-- looked briefly surprised, then grateful. "Thank you," he said softly. "No one has called me anything but 'beast' or 'monster' in such a long time... I... thank you." 

 

The merchant wasn't sure how to answer that non-awkwardly, so he simply said, "You're welcome." Then he extended his hand. "It was a pleasure -- albeit a  _very_ unexpected one -- to make your acquaintance, Sir Tristan." 

 

Sir Tristan shook his hand firmly. "Likewise, Merchant Alan Ackles. I look forward to seeing you again soon, and meeting your son. If he is anything like you, I think I shall like him very much." 

 

"I think he will like you even more," the merchant replied, laughing slightly. "He hasn't seen much of the world yet, but he wants to, and he's always dreaming of adventure." He smiled fondly as he thought of his son.

 

"This will be a dream come true for Jensen." 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

Two days later, Merchant Alan Ackles strode through the front door of his cottage, greeting his youngest son with a hug. Jensen had apparently seen him coming and had been waiting at the door. The "Welcome back, Dad," was muffled against his shoulder, but still made the merchant smile. 

 

"It's good to be back, son," he replied, still holding Jensen close. "I have something for you."

 

He drew back and showed his son (who had clearly been expecting another book, judging by the shock on his face) the rose he held in his hand. "This is for you, Jensen." He took in his son's awed expression, and he added: 

 

"And you're not going to  _believe_ how I got it." 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been forEVER since I have updated this story. Between school and homework and my job, I just haven't had the time. But don't worry, I have NOT forgotten about this fic! Chapter 3 is in the works now, and while I won't give any dates (I know from experience that the likelihood of me sticking to any self-imposed deadline is VERY small), this story will definitely continue eventually. 
> 
> Long story short: I'm working on it! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone <3


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